


Homecoming

by PepperSeeds



Series: Not Quite Romance [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cats, Denial of Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Félicette is apart of my sadarno literary universe, M/M, Meet the Family, Sort Of, because Arno is Arno, those two concepts are not related don't worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperSeeds/pseuds/PepperSeeds
Summary: After three months of wrestling with the émigre list, Arno returns to several notable events.
Relationships: Arno Dorian/Marquis de Sade
Series: Not Quite Romance [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802629
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone who enjoys this is legally obligated to thank my tumblr friend (acquaintance? fellow ac & sade blogger? IDK) Lola for providing like most of the inspiration for this fic. I owe her my life.

There’s about a three month period when Arno is away from the Théâtre, traveling around collecting documents from Great Britain to Prussia. There are no words he could ever possibly string together to describe the headache the émigre list gave him. He’d even gotten proof from the United States, largely thanks to the help of a fellow Master Assassin by the name of Valentina. She’d even gone with him to present everything they’d gathered. 

The lengths he went to to protect his marquis continued to surprise him. At least now there is no doubt de Sade never went anywhere. Besides, with two Assassins hovering over everything, the Bouches-du-Rhône Department had no choice but to comply with their demands. By the time Valentina and Arno made it to Paris to discuss bettering relations between their respective brotherhoods, Arno had completely forgotten that de Sade’s eldest son was coming to visit him. 

It’s late when Valentina and him arrive at the Théâtre. Being in a carriage for a long while tends to leave one stiff, the two of them stretching in relief once they can walk around again. He plucks the official letter proclaiming de Sade off the émigre list when Valentina offers it to him. Several attendants from inside come to drag in his luggage. 

“So this is your base of operations?” She asks, words dripping with her Italian accent. 

“It isn’t, perhaps, as vast as your castle,” Arno says, amused, “But I can get to the Sainte-Chapelle easily from here.” 

Valentina smiles at that, stretching one last time, before bidding him farewell and riding off to where she would be staying. No matter how pleasant her company was, he was dreading going to the Council with her, even if it was on her terms. Trenet couldn’t expel her as she did him, however, so at least that gave him something to hide behind. 

Arno enters the Café, grateful for the warmth, and catches sight of de Sade and another man sitting at one of the side tables. There isn’t an event going on at the moment, and it’s late enough that the only people at the Café are those who work there. He wonders, for a moment, who his marquis could be talking to, before he remembers. He’d heard very little of Louis-Marie, other than the man is apparently an artist. 

Once de Sade realises that Arno’s returned, he quickly stops whatever he’d been about to say and practically jumps from his seat. It’s the longest Arno’s been gone in a while, so he isn’t surprised the marquis is glad to see him. 

“Arno!” He exclaims, walking forward to give a brief, tight embrace, “You’ve returned just in time! This is my son-”

Louis-Marie interrupts him, laughing slightly. “I’m more than capable of introducing myself, father,” he says, eyes flicking between the two of them. “Louis-Marie de Sade, a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Arno Dorian, the pleasure is mine,” he replies. Louis-Marie offers his hand, and they shake. Now that Arno can properly look at him, he hardly resembled his father. Different face, darker hair, the only similar thing was his eyes. He’d know de Sade’s anywhere, even on the face of another, one blue, one green, both striking. 

They return to where de Sade and his son were sitting before to continue their conversation. Arno desperately wants to go upstairs and sleep in his own bed, but he knows entertaining his guest must, at least for the moment, come first. Someone behind the bar had the foresight to bring them some coffee and Arno has to resist the urge to collapse in his seat in relief. The drink is pleasantly hot against his lips. He missed the coffee just as much as he missed his own bed, it seemed. 

The three of them talk for maybe an hour before Louis-Marie finally goes. He acts much like his marquis did, when they first met: over-the-top to an irritating degree. Arno doesn’t remember much of their conversation, it was all rather regular, though he does remember the odd glances Louis-Marie kept making at him. He supposed it could have just been the late hour playing tricks on him, however, so he brushes them off as nothing. 

Arno is thankful when Louis-Marie finally leaves. He can’t say the man’s company was bad, per say, just that it was tiring. Father and son speak with the same exhaustingly animated enthusiasm. When he finally goes upstairs and intends to fall asleep immediately, he’s surprised to find a bath drawn. He looks over to his marquis in surprise, wondering if he had anything to do with it. 

“Don’t look at _me_!” de Sade exclaims, “Your staff knows you better than you realise.” 

Arno laughs and shakes his head, going to remove his clothing. “Are you planning on joining me or are you going to stand there?” He asks, pulling his hair free. De Sade’s eyes get their usual gleam of hunger, and he steps forward to help Arno out of his things. Both of their clothes end up in a pile on the floor, and he nearly forgets he’s supposed to be bathing with all the kisses his marquis presses to his neck and chest. 

Finally, once he can pull away long enough to sink into the water, he relaxes. He hadn’t noticed how sore he really was until the hot water lets his muscles go lax. Arno comes back to himself when he feels water splash out of the tub and de Sade’s weight on his legs. He hums, gently cupping his marquis’ face to kiss him properly. 

“I’ve missed you,” Arno says, moving to wrap his arms around de Sade’s waist. Perhaps, if he were any less tired, he wouldn’t have said such a thing, but for now he doesn’t care. He does, however, relish the way a blush rises on de Sade’s face that definitely isn’t a result of the heat. 

“Truly?” His marquis asks, as if the very notion he could be missed was absurd. Arno simply nods, kissing de Sade again to prove his point. The man sighs into it, before reaching over to grab the soap from the side table. Arno leans back so de Sade can work a lather into his hair, letting the subject drop. 

His marquis washes the soap out of his hair once he’s done and Arno’s content to let him work, palms spread against de Sade’s lower back. The both of them smell rather heavily of the lavender scented soap de Sade insists on buying. He’s brought in for a rougher kiss once his marquis finishes washing his hair, de Sade biting at his lower lip and grinding his hips downward, teasing. Arno moves his hands down slightly to grip de Sade’s thighs. The marquis gasps against him for it, and Arno smiles, squeezing the soft flesh to elicit the sound again. 

It goes on like this for several minutes, the only sounds in the room being the fireplace and the two of them rutting against one another. De Sade’s bitten several marks into Arno’s chest that sting pleasantly, and Arno’s certain his nails have left their mark on his marquis’ backside. De Sade’s hands end up back in his hair at some point to tug on the wet strands occasionally. The water makes their movements a bit difficult with how slick everything is, but they do finally finish, gasping into one another’s mouths. De Sade buries his face in Arno’s neck after he slumps against him. 

It’s a few moments before they regain themselves, chests still heaving. “I’ll fall asleep like this if we stay here,” Arno mumbles, sleepily resting his cheek on de Sade’s blond hair. His marquis huffs, moving back to get out of the water. Arno takes a moment to admire the reddish marks on de Sade’s thighs before following, accepting the towel offered to him. 

They curl up in bed once they’re both dried off, Arno falling asleep almost as soon as he’s under the covers. He’s very glad to be home. 

The precious few moments Arno has before waking fully are filled with the sensation of something pushing at his shoulder. He blinks a few times, making a soft, confused noise. 

“Move _over_ ,” de Sade grumbles, still pushing at him, “You are _heavy_.”

Arno realises, belatedly, that de Sade is almost completely under him. He mumbles something by way of an apology, though it’s muffled against his marquis’ hair, before rolling off. He buries his face back in the pillows, not wanting to get up. He knows he’ll be expected to get out of bed today, but he really, really, doesn’t want to. Arno’s halfway to falling back asleep before he feels the press of lips against the bare expanse of his back. His marquis seems rather insistent that he wake up, though it might just be revenge for crushing him earlier. 

“You know, I never noticed I left a scar here…” de Sade mumbles, and Arno feels fingers run across his ass and thigh. There’s an indent there, but from what, he doesn’t know. Against his body’s wishes, he twists just so to see for himself. He knows most of the scars he has, and it isn’t until he processes what de Sade had said that he understands. There’s a mark, very faint, in the shape of a circle, upon his upper thigh. Arno knows his marquis has a fascination with his legs, and has even bitten them before hard enough to draw blood. 

That’s what the scar is. A bite mark. 

“I… _really?_ ” Arno remarks, incredulous. De Sade bursts out laughing at his expression, flopping back against the mattress as he does. Arno buries his face back in the pillows to mask his smile, it still is uncommon for de Sade to genuinely laugh about something. Besides, he finds he doesn’t mind the scar. He’s covered in dozens and now he knows he at least has one with good memories behind it. 

Eventually they both settle down and Arno is completely awake, sitting up to stretch. De Sade is tangled in the covers, looking up when Arno leans over him to rest his arms on either side of his marquis’ face. The kiss they share is teasing and de Sade, being de Sade, runs his hands greedily up the muscles on Arno’s chest. 

When they separate, de Sade’s expression becomes thoughtful. He considers Arno for a moment, thinking of something or other, before he speaks. 

“Did you mean to say you missed me?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, “Or were you truly that exhausted?” 

Arno stops for a moment, pondering. True, he was tired from a very, very long day, he didn’t even remember saying he missed de Sade! It wasn’t as if he didn’t, but he certainly wasn’t prepared to talk about it. His marquis tries to move out from under him when the silence stretches on long enough. Arno stops him with a brief kiss. 

“I meant it,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “Of course I meant it.” 

His marquis doesn’t seem to know what to do with that, as he stares without responding as a blush finds its way to his face. Arno chuckles at the sight, kissing him again before moving off. His stomach is doing flips, but he’s choosing to ignore that for now. He moves to get dressed for the day, still dreading having to go to the council, when he hears a soft scratching at the door. 

Once he is at least slightly decent, he opens the door to find Félicette there. She looks up at him before padding into the room and butting into his leg. 

“Where have you been?” He asks, smiling and scooping her into his arms. 

His marquis laughs, getting out of bed once Arno’s shut the door. He crosses the room to press a kiss to Félicette’s head, and she purrs loudly, wiggling happily in Arno’s hold. 

“Oh, she doesn’t like Louis-Marie,” de Sade says, scritching Félicette’s cheek, “Always ran off whenever he came by.” 

Arno snorts in amusement before passing Félicette into his marquis’ arms instead and brushing the fur off of himself. De Sade deposits her onto her favorite chair before turning to get dressed himself. He’d been banned from helping Arno dress a long while ago, simply because the man could never keep his hands to himself and Arno ended up late more often than not. When he picks up his coat off the floor from where it was tossed last night, he remembers the letter he’d shoved into the interior pocket. 

“Oh, I forgot to mention you’re off the émigre list,” he says, nonchalantly passing de Sade the letter, “I won’t be back until later today.” 

De Sade doesn’t seem to know what to say to this, plucking the letter from Arno’s hand and opening it. Perhaps he should have said something last night, but he doesn’t remember enough of it to be certain. At least, he hopes, it would make his whole ordeal with Renée a bit easier. 

The things he does for this man. 

De Sade still hadn’t said a word by the time Arno had all of his gear on. He’s still blankly staring at the letter, as if it held answers to all his questions. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, starting to worry. 

His marquis blinks once, twice, before dropping the letter and crossing the room to pull Arno down into a passionate kiss. Arno doesn’t know what to make of it, so he settles for resting his hands on de Sade’s hips. 

“I’m alright,” his marquis responds, separating from him but remaining against his chest. Arno shifts to rest his palms against de Sade’s lower back and rests his cheek against his hair. It’s comforting, in a strange sort of way. They stay connected for a moment before Arno pulls back. 

“I need to go,” he says, even if he wants to stay. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

De Sade hums in response, stealing one more kiss while he's still within arm’s reach. He’s still looking strangely at Arno, but he supposes that’s to be expected. 

“Don’t keep me waiting for too long,” he says, smiling. De Sade’s expression is surprisingly gentle, and Arno is surprised that even after all this time it’s still shocking. 

“I make no promises,” He replies, turning to open the balcony door, “But I will try not to be too late.” 

He gets a glimpse of the smile de Sade gives him, and he’s off across Paris before he can put too much thought into it. He still has little use for hope, these days.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, can y'all tell I don't know anything at all about the émigre list? I sure can. 
> 
> Also for those who may be wondering about Sade's dick issue, my answer is simple: Isu Magic. 
> 
> (who knows? not me, but Jupiter might. Not Juno though she doesn't fuck)


End file.
